Oh dear, I think it was Venus, our intergalactic neighbor who has been gassing it up recently. Sorry for the blunder.
Today I must devote my blogging energy to beacon.org the web site and blogspot for the fantabulous Beacon Press, publishers of gay, straight, hip and hop, funk and intellect and incredible literary beautifiscence. Beacon is home to such authors as Mary Oliver, Mary Daly, the late James Baldwin and the even later Herbert Marcuse and of course the very much alive Harlyn Aizley.
The theme of my Beacon post will be "It's Because I'm Gay Isn't It?!"
In the meantime ponder this: what if sound which is after all just vibration could get trapped in the little nooks and crannies and crevasses of every day life such as a cave or under a bed or in the eave of a house, and then a breeze or a jostling of some sort could release that sound years maybe even centuries later. Would we hear it?
Betsy is a duck today in a play.
The cat drew enough blood from my fingertip last night for me to have had genetic testing done, which is something a dog would never ever do.